BolderBoulder pt 2

So training. I’ve been training for two whole weeks now. How am I not svelte and a lean, mean, racing machine? Because… well, reality, I guess.

During the last two weeks, I’ve tried to walk three times per week. Therefore, I’ve walked six times. Obviously, I’m ready for a 10K! Not so much.

Last Sunday was supposed to be my longest walk yet. I created a 4.2 mile route on MapMyRun and even had my walking buddies ready. But I was nervous. I hadn’t done more than 3 miles in forever, and I had all this anxiety built up inside me.

The first mile was good. A little shin splint pain, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Then about a mile and a half in it became unbearable. The shin splints had migrated from my left ankle to my right, and now both ankles were sufficiently on fire.

The pain was bad enough, but the mental anguish was worse. For whatever reason, I spiraled. I couldn’t get out of my head. All of a sudden, instead of fixing my gait and carrying on, I couldn’t find the will to move on. When one of my walking buddies asked what was wrong I looked at them and said, “I just need one thing to go right!”

This is where I am right now. I started this blog because I want to let other people know how much this whole diet/exercise thing truly, truly sucks sometimes. When I couldn’t find the gumption inside of me to go on I thought about everything that has frustrated me over the last few weeks. My job. My lack of a love life. My need for friends. My constant desire to look better. It all came crashing in on me.

My walking buddies were absolutely understanding, and they suggested we turn around. In all, I ended up doing 3.62 miles instead of 4.2. I can’t believe how much I beat myself up over 0.6 miles! I drove the route yesterday and noticed how incredibly close I was to my goal of getting to a specific street. I was less than a third of a mile.

So here’s the plan: by the time this is published, I will be on that route again. I’m going to take every precaution against both shin splints and negative thoughts, and my greatest hope is on Thursday you read my triumphant story of how I conquered the 4.2 mile route. Wish me luck!

Last year’s BolderBoulder… and why I’m terrified this year

In theory, I’m supposed to do the BolderBoulder next Monday. As in 6 days from now. Sheer terror? Absolutely.

See, in (cockier) times past I’d think it was no sweat. I’ve been training for two WHOLE weeks, thankyouverymuch. But last year broke me.

Last year I trained for two weeks and thought, “I got this.” My mom and aunt were doing the race with me and my aunt hadn’t trained much/wasn’t used to the altitude. If anything, I was concerned for her and looking forward to the race for me.

Half of a mile in the shin splints started to set it. Three-quarters of a mile in I was in more pain than I’ve ever been in. As a reference point: I’ve had a kidney stone. And this was way worse. I had made a classic blunder: I wore something new for the race. The compression socks I was wearing were cutting off my circulation and I could barely stand. If you ran the BolderBoulder last year: yes, I was the crazy girl crying on the side of the road. Normally my shin splints shake out after a mile or two. These didn’t. These clenched my ankles with vice-like grips for two and a half miles.

I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice. I hobbled over to the emergency personnel and sheepishly told them I couldn’t finish the race. They called over a bus for me/the other people who couldn’t finish (all at least 50+ years old, except for me) and drove us near the finish line. Because the bus went so slow and my aunt (who was fine for the whole time!) and mom could go faster without me, I caught up with them about a half mile from the finish. The driver nicely let me out and I crossed the finish line with my family.

I’ve never felt like so much of a failure.

To date, that was the first and only race I’ve ever not finished. I’ve had races take me hours longer than they were supposed to, and literally been the last one to cross the finish, but I’ve always finished.

Now the race is 6 days away and I’m terrified history will repeat itself. This is starting to drag on so let’s just continue this tomorrow, shall we?

 

Training: Days 1 and 2

“Well crap.”

Those are about the only thoughts going through my head right now.

I’m sure if you look at the time between my first post when I was all like “yeah I’m gonna crush this” and now you’ll notice a difference of about two months. A deflating, eating-fueled two months.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if I had, say, picked up a vegetable or a fruit. Nope. I had to pick up things like Blue Bell ice cream. And Culver’s. And onion rings.

Needless to say, I’m worse off than I started.

But here I am, seventeen weeks away from a half marathon, and three weeks away from a 10k. To put it mildly: I’m in deep [insert non-offensive word here].

The plan that I’ve chosen for the half marathon is a sixteen-week plan. In my head, I keep thinking, “nah, I can start next week!” But that brain has lied to me before, and it’s attempting to do the same thing again.

According to my training plan (which can be found on PopSugar here), yesterday I was supposed to do 2 miles and 30 minutes of strength and stretching. Yeeaaaahhhh, that didn’t happen. We had a Mother’s Day celebration and I ended up walking 1.25 miles to and from cheesecake, does that count? I purposely tried to walk as much as possible during the day, and I told myself that 1.25 miles is better than nothing. Still, I’m frustrated with myself for letting the first day pass by without much of a “hey girl this is your time let’s go for it!” attitude. Yes, that is what I tell myself to psych myself up.

Cut to day 2: today was supposed to be simple. Just 30 minutes of strength and stretching. No biggie! I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I wasn’t dreading it. Part of that is I kinda forgot about it… but hey, I remembered, I attempted it, that’s what counts.

So anyways. I popped in an old Pilates dvd and thought “no sweat.” Uh, sweat. Lots of it. My muscles were shaking so bad I couldn’t even do about a quarter of it. There was one move I literally could not do. You lean on your arm and lift up your whole body. I tried and failed spectacularly. And in those moments, when I literally couldn’t hoist myself up onto one arm, I realized with sheer horror the state I’ve let myself get into. I wanted to give up. I wanted to cry. Heck, I wanted ice cream.

I’m proud to say I allowed myself none of those three things.

Even though I’m daydreaming about ice cream as I type this, I’m not getting it. I’m typing this to ensure I won’t get it, either. Because I’ve told myself this time will be different. This time I’ll make changes I can live with; changes that will be habit-forming and last a lifetime. This time I will believe in myself and believe that I am worth fighting for. With a lot of work, a little luck, and copious amounts of grace I’m clinging to the fact that in a few months I’ll look back and see how far I’ve come. Because I was made for more than this.

Here we go again…

Hi.

*hyperventilates a little bit*

So I did something potentially dumb.

I signed up for the Disneyland Half Marathon.

I don’t run. I barely walk. And I’m nowhere near where I want to be weight-wise. To the point where I can’t even tell you, stranger on the Internet, what I weigh.

That’s why I’m doing this, I guess.

I want to be better. I want to own my weight – the good, the bad, the fluctuating. I want to take charge of my health. And I want to learn to be more vulnerable. Not totally vulnerable on the Internet – I’m not an idiot (most days).

See the thing is, I want others to know about someone else’s struggle. But I also want others to know that every time I have a victory (there will be victories, right???) that they can do that too.

The last time I did the Disneyland Half Marathon (more on that in future posts) it nearly killed me. Not in like a figurative “oh it was so hard I stubbed my toe” way, but a literal, I-don’t-know-if-I-can-make-it sort of way. It also inspired me to start this blog and want to help others, so here I am again.

If you’re reading this (and it’s probably just my mom… hi Mom!), join me on this journey. My hope is to use this as a virtual sounding board – to log what I’ve found out about myself, to tell you what’s working and what’s not, and to hopefully encourage others who are on the same journey. Feel free to join me. Friend me on Fitbit, follow me on Instagram, etc. Share in this road that I’m quite literally traveling. Heck, tell me what I’m doing wrong in my training! But you know, nicely. And again… hi.